


All day, every day (can you feel the murder in the air?)

by cryalot



Category: World Trigger
Genre: Gen, annoying duckface back at it again, hyuse will throw hands, no beta we die like men, pancakes are important kids, poor osamu he's done nothing to deserve this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:16:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryalot/pseuds/cryalot
Summary: All Osamu wanted was one day in which he could properly study. Even though his study session would be held in the rather noisy building of the Tamakoma branch, he would take it. Exams are coming up, after all, and between patrols, rank wars, and managing the chaotic mess that his team has become, he’s been having trouble getting any work done outside of cram school. As he sits down in his room after a morning of training with Karasuma, Osamu sighs to himself in relief. He has finally managed to clear up an entire day so that he could study, rank top ten in the exams, get into a good university, succeed in life--CRASH!“KUGA!!”Osamu sighs, putting down his workbook and standing up from his desk. Never mind. It’s not like he wanted to do well in life anyway.





	All day, every day (can you feel the murder in the air?)

**Author's Note:**

> y'all!! i've been over the moon since ashihara daisuke resumed the series. i'm so happy he's feeling better!! + the new tamakoma-2!!! an absolute unit!! so since finals starts next week, the most logical thing for me to do is to write a fic. and post it. anyways, it's just 2k of absolute nonsense. i'd love to spend a day out w the tamakoma-2 squad >w<

 All Osamu wanted was one day in which he could properly study. Even though his study session would be held in the rather noisy building of the Tamakoma branch, he would take it. Exams are coming up, after all, and between patrols, rank wars, and managing the chaotic mess that his team has become, he’s been having trouble getting any work done outside of cram school. As he sits down in his room after a morning of training with Karasuma, Osamu sighs to himself in relief. He has finally managed to clear up an entire day so that he could study, rank top ten in the exams, get into a good university, succeed in life--

_ CRASH! _

 “KUGA!!” 

 Osamu sighs, putting down his workbook and standing up from his desk. Never mind. It’s not like he wanted to do well in life anyway.

 “Guys! What’s going on?” He calls, walking out from his room and into the hall, only to yelp and jump back as he narrowly avoids being decapitated by a pair of chopsticks flying through the air.  _ Thud! _ The chopsticks embed themselves into the door at the end of the hall. Osamu stares. How did- who just- 

 “Sorry, Osamu!” A familiar white haired blur whizzes past him, holding what looks suspiciously like an entire scallion pancake between his teeth. He is closely followed by a murderous Hyuse, his horns perfectly complementing with his killing aura, giving Osamu an unsettling impression of the devil personified as the two aces fly past. 

 “Hey, you guys, don’t fight…” Osamu tries his best, he swears. He cries a little on the inside.  _ Why do I have to be the team captain? _

  


 Meanwhile, Yuma and Hyuse are doing their best imitation of an annoying squirrel and a rabid dog, respectively. Osamu watches helplessly as Yuma jumps off a wall, narrowly dodging Hyuse, only to crash into the table and send the vase toppling over and rolling right to the edge of the table. 

 “Watch out for the vase-!”

 Too late. Osamu can only watch as Hyuse, not one to miss up on an opportunity, lunges at Yuma. The impact of their crash shakes the table, and the vase takes the opportunity to roll straight to its death off the edge of the table. 

 The shattering noise the vase makes briefly makes Yuma and Hyuse pause from their wrestling match to the death. For a moment, the three members of Tamakoma-2 survey the scene. Osamu is frozen mid-step towards the vase, an exasperated expression on his face. Hyuse has Yuma pinned to the table by his throat with one hand, and is trying to wrench the pancake from Yuma’s mouth with the other hand. Yuma, unbothered by the lack of air due to his trion body, is still stubbornly holding onto the pancake with his teeth. He is also attempting to repel Hyuse with a rather impressive, contortionist-esque move involving all four of his limbs pushing against Hyuse’s face. 

  


 Then the moment ends, and Yuma and Hyuse resume their death battle over the scallion pancake, and Osamu runs forward in an attempt to do damage control before someone walks in on them, someone like-

 “Ei! What do you think you guys are doing!” Reiji walks in, Chika following closely behind him. “We could hear you guys all the way from the  _ basement _ .”

To Hyuse’s credit, he does try to turn and say something in response to the red-haired all rounder, but Yuma takes the chance to squirm out from under Hyuse’s chokehold and runs for the window. Osamu, Reiji, and Chika watches as Yuma jumps out of the third story window without pause, followed closely by Hyuse, and the two of them are gone in a flash.

  


  Osamu is glad that nobody in Tamakoma is a telepath. They’d never get a break from his incessant internal sobbing otherwise. 

  


 An awkward silence follows as Reiji and Chika take in the shattered vase, the scattered chairs, and the table that’s shifted about six meters from where it used to be.

 “I-” Osamu begins, but Reiji shakes his head. 

 “It’s okay, I know you probably had nothing to do with this entire mess. I’ll get Konami to sort them out later.” 

 “Are you okay, Osamu?” Chika pipes up from beside Reiji. Osamu nods, sighing as he adjusts his glasses. 

 “Yeah, sorry, I was just trying to study when those two started up again. I’ll clean this up, you guys can go back to training.”

 Reiji and Chika nod in acknowledgement and turn to go back down the stairs, Chika waving with a sympathetic smile. Osamu sighs, and begins picking up the shards.

  


While his captain is cleaning up the corpse of a pretty ceramic, Yuma is having a hell of a time running, performing impressive evasive acrobatics, and eating a scallion pancake all at the same time. Just a few meters behind him, Hyuse is swearing and sprinting after him, determined to reclaim his pancake.

 “Kuga  _ I swear- _ ”

 “Just get another one, geez-” Yuma begins, before breaking down into a fit of coughing. He can run and do parkour and eat all at once if he concentrates, but that’s about as far as it gets. Talking, in addition to doing all of the above, is a skill he has yet to master. Nevertheless, he jumps nimbly to the side, eyes watering slightly, as Hyuse pounces at the spot he was just occupying. Yuma takes the opportunity to dodge behind Hyuse and scarf down another bite of the pancake, before Hyuse wheels around, and the chase is on again. Yuma runs down a random street, pushing past pedestrians at a breakneck pace, half of the pancake still in hand. 

 “KUGA I AM GIVING YOU ONE SECOND TO HAND OVER MY PANCAKE-” 

 Not good. The sound of Hyuse’s voice was getting closer. Yuma makes a split second decision and vaults up, grabbing onto the bars of an apartment window with one hand and jumping swiftly upwards, eating the pancake simultaneously with his other hand. There’s a cry of astonishment from someone inside one of the floors he passes. A quick glance downwards has confirmed that Hyuse is still on his tail; the neighbor is hauling himself up with considerably less grace, fueled by intent to reclaim his pancake and brute strength as he scales the apartment building after Yuma. Yuma isn’t exactly clear on Miden’s perspective on having strangers randomly climb residential structures while screaming bloody murder, but he can hazard a logical guess. They’d have Miden authorities chasing after them if this didn’t end soon.

  


 Yuma gets to the top of the building, but instead of moving onwards, he stays standing at the top. He takes what’s left of the pancake, folds it up, and crams it into his mouth just as Hyuse is launching himself over the edge of the apartment. The two neighbors stare at each other for a moment, the white haired male continuing to chew on the last bit of the stolen pancake. Then Hyuse sighs, glaring at Yuma, and flops down on the apartment roof, exhausted. Yuma sits down next to him companionably, and the two of them rest for a few minutes in silence, lulled by the bustling sound of the street below them.

  


 “Kuga, if you do that again, I’ll murder you.” Hyuse eventually says.

 “Sounds fun.”

 “Do you know how Aftokrator traditionally gathers intel? I’ll rip your fingers off one by one and shove them down your throat.”

 “That seems counterproductive if you want actual, accurate info, but sign me the heck up.”

 Hyuse sighs. They sit there for another moment or two in peaceful silence. Somewhere below them, a random pop song plays from one of the shops, and the warbling voice of a little child joins the chorus.

 “Hey, Hyuse?”

 “Mm?”

 “Do you….know where we are?” The two pause, look down at the street, at each other, back down at the street. It is only then that it crosses both of their minds at the same time- they are in the residential district. Which is at least three kilometers away from where Tamakoma’s base is, last Yuma remembered from studying the map. Which means….

 “Fuck, we’re lost.” Hyuse sums it up for him. Yuma nods. “Maybe we could ask someone in the building….?” 

 Just then, the door to the apartment roof bursts open. The two aces turn around in time to see an angry old man of a security guard running at them, waving a fly swatter.

 “What are you punks doing? You’re trespassing!” The old man shouts. 

 “Oops,” Yuma mutters. Hyuse frowns, and starts running towards the edge of the apartment building, pulling Yuma with him by the scruff of his collar. 

 “Hey, hey, what are you- HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOI-” the yells of the old security guard follow them as Hyuse jumps off the edge of the roof, pulling Yuma with him.

_ An elevator ride, _ Yuma thinks absently as he watches them hurtle past the apartment floors. There are people watching, heads hanging out the window, mouths open in shock. Just before they’re one floor away from getting smashed into two Tamakoma pancakes, Hyuse pushes off the side of the building and uses his momentum to roll onto the ground and into a standing position. Yuma’s world does an epic 720 degree spin as Hyuse rolls, before it slows to a stop when Hyuse stands up, still holding Yuma by the scruff of his collar. 

 “Nice landing,” the white-haired neighbor offers, holding up a thumbs up from where he is still dangling from Hyuse’s grasp. The brunette scoffs in reply, unceremoniously letting go of Yuma’s collar. 

 “We’d better get out of here,” Hyuse says as Yuma is busy picking himself up from the floor. “There seems to be a lot of observers.” Before Yuma can respond, there’s an unholy sound. It takes the both of them several seconds to recognize the noise as shouting- more specifically, a pissed off, strangely familiar voice shouting…..

 Oh, they were fucked.

 “HEY, YOU MISERABLE WEAKLINGS!” Konami roars, striding towards them. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING HERE? CAUSING TROUBLE FOR CIVILIANS AND PLAYING TAG IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAMN STREET?”

 Even the onlookers cringe in sympathy. Yuma ducks behind Hyuse, who is trying to look nonchalant even as the blood drains from his face.

  


 Later in the evening, Yuma and Hyuse lay groaning on the floor of the living room. Chika sits next to them, applying medical patches and trying her best not to laugh as Osamu looked on amusedly from where he was at the table, almost done with his workbook. 

 “I think I’m dying…” Yuma mumbles, just as his stomach lets out a huge growl. Hyuse nods in agreement from beside him, faceplanted into the floor ( _ “To conserve my strength,” _ he had explained when Osamu asked. At this point, Osamu is just following his life motto of  _ don’t question, don’t worry, just accept. _ ).

 “Worry not, my cute juniors!” Jin pops his head cheerily into the room, bringing with him the mouthwatering aroma of dinner. “Dinner is just about ready. Come and get your plates!” 

 “Thank you, Jin-san,” the members of Tamakoma-2 chorus as they pile towards the kitchen.

  


 After dinner, Tamakoma-2 is relaxing in the living room, watching the news. Halfway through, Osamu notices Yuma eyeing the last dorayaki, which just so happens to be on Hyuse’s plate, yet to be touched. 

 “Kuga, don’t-” he begins, but it’s too late. As the sounds of war break out again, he sighs to himself. At least he wasn’t studying this time, he reminds himself, as a couch cushion whizzes towards Chika, who ducks, leaving the pillow to smack into Osamu’s face.


End file.
